Path of the Necromancer
by MrWilde
Summary: With Hermione fatally injured Harry is forced to turn to an ancient art to save her. Though in the process he becomes the protege of a demonic God and begins to master the forbidden art. Though as secrets hidden from him come to light, Harry begins to walk a path mastered by only Morgana Le Fay herself. Harry/Hermione/Daphne, manipulative Dumbledore and Weasley Bashing.
1. Chapter 1

Path of the Necromancer

"_Harry James Potter," _the voice haunted the darkest recess of both his mind and room as it crept through like a silent wind but exploded in an endless echo. Enough to awaken Harry who was only half asleep.

"Hello?" he questioned wondering if his Ron or any of the others were playing a joke on him. He reached for his glasses before pausing; did he really want to get up just to find some idiot whispering his name? He had not been on very good terms with Ron or many others for what they said he did to Hermione. His hand fell back down and he prepared to go back to sleep.

"_Harry James Potter," _the deep ominous voice continued and this time it had a tone brimming with authority and Harry moved up. Frowning, the voice was not one he knew, so who was saying his name?

"_Come, come to me," _the voice requested and in one swift movement Harry took his wand, crept from his bed and into the dorm. Everyone as far as he could see was sound asleep. A chill was in the air though, something he could not describe and knew held no place in the summer months. Though he could feel something else, a strange vibrating or possibly pulsing was all around him, like the very air had come to life.

"Hello?" he shouted but his voice became a whisper that vanished the moment his foot touched the first step, no one could hear him.

"_Hermione Granger's future depends on speed, will you answer her helpless calling?"_ the inquiring voice blinded every thought Harry had and he was in the common room in a matter of seconds. Hermione. She had plagued him every day since he arrived back at Hogwarts. She was still in St Mungos after the fiasco at the ministry and he had heard that there was a very good chance she would die.

"_Ahh such loyalty," _the deep tones sounded almost mocking as the door slid shut silently and the curtains of the room tightened. The fire was already out as Harry pondered whether or not to use a spell.

"_Such bravery. Such eagerness," _The voice continued slowly, stretching out every word for effect. Harry frowned and looked around; he could not find the source of the voice.

"Who are you?" He demanded, silence followed before he felt something stirring.

"_I am many things, though my presence here merits a name. A name you will never understand, but one you will recognise nevertheless." _The pondering answer took a few seconds to form.

"What are you?" Harry corrected knowing he was not dealing with an ordinary person, maybe not even a wizard.

"_I am knower of the unknown, keeper of secrets and yet hidden," _the voice explained leisurely as Harry swivelled in the centre of the room, searching for a source.

"What about Hermione?" Harry asked, this was what he needed to know.

"_All in good time, all in good time." _

"Are you with Voldemort?" Harry asked suddenly, was this the dark lords doing?

"_I am not with him, but I am. He would claim my allegiance but I am questioning if my powers are invested wisely, you after all have defeated him time and time again," _The voice hissed from nowhere and yet everywhere.

"I never meant to,"

"_Oh you did, from your first year to now you have opposed him. Always I have put your victory down to my nemesis but no. She has not marked you." _

"Nemesis?" Harry muttered, wondering exactly what was going on. Maybe he was still dreaming; that would make sense. He was pretty much talking to himself now.

"_Yes, but I have gotten ahead of myself. My point it simple, your power is rendering the Dark Lord increasing obsolete and useless, I no longer see a point to him." _The voice whispered in a darkened tone. Harry felt cold air on the back of his neck.

"What does that have to do with me?" Harry questioned.

"_It has everything to do with you. Tell me what do the names Rowena Ravenclaw, Herpo the Foul, Morgana Le Fay and Tom Riddle mean to you?" _the question hung in the air.

"They're all famous?" Harry pointed out the first thing he thought of.

"_And powerful, these people are the kings of kings, the emperors of emperors. Gods among men, all of them were my champions."_

"Riddle is your champion?" the term sounded strange and yet meaningful.

"_Indeed like all others he was bestowed with access to my library, the others have done great things, except. Tom Riddle."_

"Well he's nothing compared to the others," Harry agreed not wanting to miss a chance to snub his enemy. The presence he felt seemed suddenly joyful and the response almost resembled a chuckle.

"_Indeed, his failures have caused me to question whether or not to strike him from the list and instate a new champion... you Harry James Potter." _

"Me? Voldemort's done more than me?" was all he could say.

"_Such modesty. You have bested him many times and with the correct guidance I believe you could rise to a position similar to my other champions." _

"You think _I _could be equal with Rowena Ravenclaw?" Harry stated, his voice filled with disbelief.

"_She said the same thing you know, in her day my champions of the past were names you would not know. Though Rowena mastered a skill, an old magic that allowed her to bend the natural world to her will. Herpo the Foul, he used forbidden knowledge to live for centuries. Morgan Le Fay, the first understood an art that allowed her to lay down a legacy which has lasted for a thousand years and it shall last longer. If I did not believe you had the potential to be on par with them then I would not be here," _the voice hissed. Its tone unknowable now and Harry just studied the room.

"_Again I am ahead of myself, I invited you hear to speak to you about Hermione Granger, there is a way to save her." _

"Tell me now," Harry ordered his mind set upon righting a wrong he perceived himself to have committed.

"_That it is that loyalty unlocks strength deep within you. As for your answer, your friend is on the cusp of life and death. She is unable to go to either; there is only one way for you to save her,"_

"What is it?" Harry half begged lost in the idea Hermione might live still.

"_That however is my secret," _

"What?" Harry breathed, his hope fading.

"_If you want me help then we must agree on a trade, knowledge for knowledge. The secrets of Gryffindor house have long since been hidden from me. Most of the founders secrets were locked away but I have broken all but one. You will find and unlock these secrets, then I will tell you how to save Hermione Granger." _

"No, you can't do that!" Harry shouted but the presence was already gone.

"Come back," he begged desperately to the open air, but he received no response.

Two days later

"Nothing," Harry sighed putting yet another book to the side, he had been searching for information about the secrets of the founders every hour for the past two days. He had only found rumours and whispers,

"What's up Harry?" Neville asked, the only person that was still talking to him in his year. Everyone else had turned their back on him because of the mess he made. Hermione was someone close to their hearts and they had to blame someone Harry supposed.

"I've been looking for two days and nothing," Harry sighed putting his hands around his head, Hermione was getting worse by the day and he had found nothing.

"About the secrets?" Neville asked, Harry had mentioned it to him, though he had omitted the details of the mysterious presence. Harry nodded.

"What do you need them for anyway," Neville asked but he knew the answer,

"Oh," was all he said. Harry nodded, they both knew why he was doing this but at least Harry knew there was a chance. Whoever had spoken to him, they could help and he needed to save her. He just had to.

"Yeah oh," Harry sighed as Neville awkwardly retreated. Then Harry's eye was drawn to something, he could see a name on The Marauder's Map, well several names in fact and then he was hit by a sudden urge to investigate.

Meanwhile 

Daphne Greengrass looked like an animal caught in headlights as she backed up against a statue, opposite her was Draco Malfoy. At his side were his ever loyal cronies,

"Well, well Greengrass, it looks like we've caught up with you. It's been almost two years, tut tut. It's been really hard to keep it up when your lovely sister is in third year and only a few steps away," Draco grinned as he laid down the foundation of his plan.

"Leave her out of this," Daphne snarled with all the bitterness she could muster. Draco simply smiled. His eyes flashed like a shark, he had just found her weakness.

"Of course I will, but I'm afraid I'm going to need something in return," he pointed out in a pouting tone that sent a shiver through Daphne. She already knew what he was going to say.

"I'm going to need you to do everything that I say, because I really don't want to use force. I want to sit back and let you take care of me," he grinned in a sickening manner as Crabbe and Goyle chortled to each other.

"_Daphne, Daphne Greengrass," _

"Or if you don't I might have to send Crabbe and Goyle to get your sister and they don't like to wait." Draco continued, laying a story now as Daphne froze.

"_Listen to me, you have a chance here to escape this fate. Destiny has not set your actions today here in stone, there is another purpose far more worthy you could follow, however it will require something," _

"What?" Daphne asked, Draco hearing her assumed she was asking out of shock or revulsion.

"I know, awful isn't it?" he agreed.

"_You will serve undying loyalty to me and my realm, you will be at the service of my champion. If you agree say I hereby swear to serve librorum and its master for as long as I shall be permitted to live. Or reside yourself to your fate as a slave to the Malfoy child," _

"So either get on your knees or I'll fetch your sister,"

"_I can protect her, choose now," _

Daphne had no idea if she was hearing things, whether or not she was going mad but she felt her chance.

"I hereby swear to serve librorum and its master for as long as I shall be permitted to live," she almost screamed and for a second Draco looked confused. An insult was on the tip of his tongue when footsteps approached, he and the boys scarpered fearing a teacher or mouthy student.

"Potter?" Daphne gasped as she realised who had come for her, though even though her voice was icy she surprised him by locking him in a relief filled hug.

"Thank you," was all she could say before praying whatever she had agreed to serve protected her little sister.

"For?" Harry asked confused but he received no answer.

"Wait what are you doing here?" she asked, had he rushed out just to save her. Though her answer was promptly received as he began to study the statue she had been pressed up against. Her face fell, it was the one to headmasters office.

"You sat there and watched?" she asked the Gargoyle who said nothing, Harry however was prodding the gargoyle.

"What are you doing?" Daphne asked, Harry turned to her

"Godric was the first headmaster right? So his legendary secrets would have to be stored somewhere near his office but somewhere people wouldn't look. So I thought, ahah," Harry's face lit up as Daphne wondered whether or not she should feel insulted that Harry was more focused on a statue than her. Then again he had no idea what had just happened.

"_Good, good Harry, I'm impressed you found it," _the voice Harry knew so well filled the room.

"_You knew?" _Harry asked, if this being had known what had been the point of all this.

"_Of course I did, however it required the touch of a pure Gryffindor, you retrieved the information freely, without malice and you were doing it to save a friend," _the voice began as Harry pulled out a metre long metallic rod from within the gargoyle. It vanished.

"Now tell me how to save Hermione,"

"_Tell me Harry Potter, what do you know of the ancient art of Necromancy?" _


	2. Chapter 2

Path of the Necromancer

Harry felt sick as he stood outside the shop, he was in the centre of Diagon Alley and yet there was a shop he had never seen. One that no one saw, in fact he had no idea how they missed it. It looked like a wooden shack, not completely out of place but at the same time it did not fit in well. Though it was what he saw on the outside which disturbed him.

Skulls, hearts, livers and a wide array of organs and pulsing objects greeted him. All of them looked almost alive, as if they would get up and start working at the slightest indication. How no one could see the shop was a mystery to Harry, though he was here for a reason. He had been invited. A letter had been delivered in the dead of night, addressed to him and inscribed on black ash parchment was the message.

_I hear, I see, I know _

_I have heard you require certain items. I see that would be near impossible for someone in your position to acquire, however I am willing to offer my services to you. I run a small shop in Diagon Alley that I know you have never noticed. Within may be the answer to your problems. Bring Gold._

_The Seeker_

Indeed Harry had been looking for items, items he would need to complete a ritual that already turned his stomach. Though Hermione only had a few weeks left in her. He had known that it ever since he left Hogwarts, as had Daphne and both as if one mind had started to work on the way to cure her. Though the ingredients they needed seemed impossible to find, and deep down Harry wondered if what he needed to do would even work. It still sounded fanciful and yet he couldn't deny the authority that slow haunting voice commanded.

Two weeks earlier

"It isn't real?" Harry commented, the moment the word Necromancy entered the conversation his heart sunk. He knew no magic could raise the dead and an inferi Hermione was not what he had in mind for the future.

"_Incorrect, it is real, an ancient art forgotten, lost to history. It was my own doing," _the slow cryptic voice corrected, dragging out every syllable.

"No magic can raise the dead," Daphne commented, it was a law of magic they all knew and understood.

"_Your ignorance_ i_s the evidence that my work was completed, of course magic can raise the dead girl. Magic is a force that cannot be bound by your mortal laws. The actual power is unknown to you, or anyone. There are gods who could never understand the raw power of it, though I am not one of them," _the voice trailed off in a darkened hush as it ended the sentence.

"Then why doesn't anyone know how to do it?" Harry asked plainly.

"_Because the last person to know was my champion, I told you her name. She was the only one to walk that path in millennia, and now another one has passed it can be done again," _the voice continued not answering the question fully.

"Ok then how can I do it? And how will it save Hermione, she's not dead," Harry was no longer interested in the history; all he wanted to know was how to save Hermione. The one person he had let down the most.

"_A ritual can be done, it will give her a new life that will match the length of yours to the second. Though the true power of the Mortus is far greater." _

"What is it?" Harry enquired on the verge of temptation. The voice sounded like it was almost smiling.

"_It will you command of life and death, of souls themselves. Though there is a price," _

"Of course there is," Daphne muttered but was ignored.

"What price?" Harry asked and by his tone alone Daphne knew he would make it for Hermione, while these words would go unspoken, she had never seen such devotion.

"_You will be bound to my realm forever, oath bound to serve librorum as one who is not truly alive and not truly dead as will your companion."_

"What do I need to do?" Harry asked, he did not care about what sacrifices he had to make. He wanted to make amends.

"_First you will need to acquire ingredients, Basilisk Venom, Vampire ashes, Dragon's heart, Unicorn's blood and more personally, the blood of friend and foe." _

Meanwhile 

The door creaked open, a slow movement which filled the darkened room inside with sound. No one behind noticed but Harry was draped in a hood and cloak, he didn't want to be recognised.

"Hello?" a whine of a voice asked, aged and croaky it probed and the source was obscured by an armchair which sat next to fire.

"Hello?" Harry questioned looking around, shelves were packed with strange vials and objects. None of which he understood and he walked with arms firmly locked next to his sides. He didn't want to touch anything.

"Ahh, you're a customer." An old woman was laid in the armchair, warming her hands in the cold bitter air of the shop. She was dressed in a long black robe which masked her entire being, with the exception of her stony wrinkled face. Thin lips and a flaring nose seemed roughly attached to her but her eyes commanded attention. Or more accurately; her eye sockets commanded it.

"And you're the _seeker?" _Harry questioned feeling like he made a mistake, how could this blind old woman help him. She didn't seem able to move let alone hold dangerous ingredients.

"Oh yes dear child, I have provided for those interested in the dark arts for decades. The Dark Arts are forbidden fruit, access to which I effortlessly provide_._" The woman smiled, turning her head as if to look at Harry who removed his hood.

"You sent the note," Harry half commented, half questioned. She nodded.

"Indeed dear child, I have heard..."

"How?" Harry cut her off there. A smile crept across her decrepit face,

"I hear whispers, hisses of the dark world which tell me one thing. Harry Potter is attempting to brew the leech of life. Which dear child, is why you are here." Her voice seemed to speed up and slow down every other word.

"Who is this whisper?" Harry asked, knowing she could only be referring to the haunting voice which had set him upon this path.

"Oh no you don't dear child, that name is one you can never know. Not alive that is, though that is something you are intending to correct is it not? After all the only reason you would want the leech of life is to complete the Mortus."

Yes the Mortus, Harry had been looking for information since he had heard it. The voice obviously wanted him to complete of his own accord. Though the book on the ritual he had found, it was not one Hogwarts would keep in stock.

"Yes," the woman stretched out a thin, bony hand.

"Then dear child you have come to the right place. Everything you need is hear," The Seeker announced rising slowly from her position, a slow pained movement told Harry she had been there for quite some time.

"You understand the sacrifices you will make?" she asked.

"Yes," Harry confirmed nodding, there was no point; she couldn't see.

"Good, it is always best to. You also know that unless you recant the incantation perfectly..."

"I will suffer a slow, lingering painful death? Yes I know," Harry retorted quickly, this dark wooden shack was making him feel so uncomfortable, he wanted to do nothing more than get out and never see this person again. Though he doubted that would happen.

"Tell me, what vessel are you using?"

"A living one," Harry answered.

Hogwarts Express

"After the potion is brewed then a vessel must be in place to ensure once drunk the potion does not kill the soul. This vessel can be either a soul; contained in a gem that was forged in magical fire. Or a living element, though the soul connection may cause..." Harry muttered as he read and looked up at Daphne while he did so. She looked half asleep, he couldn't blame her.

Since what had happened she had been unable to sleep soundly in the Slytherin common room, though whatever power that owner of that voice had worked. Neither she nor her sister had been harmed by anyone, apparently someone had tried and they were found in the morning. Near death.

"Soul connection?" Daphne questioned the term was familiar and yet somewhat alien.

"Apparently the vessel has to have a living soul, that way my soul and it fight out and because I'm the invader I get kicked out. After the potion has done everything," Harry explained muttering to himself. Though he did not directly answer her question.

"So how do you trap a soul?" Daphne asked but Harry simply shrugged.

"Oh great, let me guess I'm going to be the vessel?" Daphne laughed sardonically.

"Not if you don't want to," Harry assured her. He was going to ask as she was the only person who knew what he needed to do but he did not want to force her.

"No, No. I guess it's something us servants have to do."

"Servant? You're not my servant" Harry affirmed, though his shocked response received a slight laugh in response.

"Please, I swear allegiance to the voice and his champion, who is you and the next thing I know me and you and together all the time working on this" she argued.

"No! I thought you wanted to help," Harry countered; he wondered how long she had felt this way.

"I do, but I don't know why you're letting me!" Harry felt silent, not sure what she meant.

"We've never even spoken before now, and now look..."

"Daphne, you're not my servant and I'm no champion of anything. Look if you don't want to help don't, but there's no one I would trust more to do this. There is no one I would rather invest my soul into."

Daphne couldn't help but smile. She nodded.

"I suppose I'm sorry, I just don't know what to think any more," she told him sadly.

"Neither do I," Harry sighed echoing her tone.

The Seeker's shop

"Intriguing, you understand dear child that the bond you will share enters a realm of magic which is unknowable. It is well past the limits of even my understanding." She inquired softly while slowly moving from shelf to shelf.

"Yes I understand. It was made very clear to me." Harry commented watching her with shocked fascination, she seemed to blend in with the organs and objects on her shelves. Then again exactly how she was so precisely finding the ingredients was also a mystery.

"Well then dear child, know you are entering realms that would please he who watches you." Her words were meant to be encouraging.

"Who is he?" Harry half barked, the woman smiled and tapped her nose.

"That dear child is his secret. One that I will not reveal, but know this his nemesis moves in the shadows, she moves against you." The woman whispered lightly.

"Who?" Harry questioned but the Seeker simply put a finger to her nose. The other hand however stretched out a leather case. Within in different sections were the ingredients he needed. Though as she handed them over, her other hand dipped down and removed the bag of gold Harry had brought. It was almost half of what everything he had.

"That is for you to find out, the days ahead are unclear. Clear them." Then she was gone.


	3. Chapter 3

Path of the Necromancer

"Harry this is not a good idea," Daphne had to at least try to stop this insanity, bound to him or not she had no faith in this plan. The two were creeping through the darkened, barely patrolled corridors of St Mungos. In one hand however Daphne held the book all information about their ritual was coming from.

"It says you need to brew the potion in a sterile, controlled environment. Over a period of time," she commented looking shocked as she read the instructions which were obviously supposed to take years to complete. Not two weeks.

"I brewed it," Harry muttered tapping his bag.

"One ounce off the correct amount could prevent it working, forcing your body to stay in an endless state of living death!" Daphne hissed, the risks involved in this ritual seemed to defy all expectations.

"I did it," Harry assured her, not looking back.

"In your relative's cellar, one night, without the expertise whoever wrote this thing had!" was Daphne's quick retort as she wondered just how she had been talked into this.

"Well Daphne in case you haven't heard, the healers don't think Hermione will live past midnight, so unless you have a better way of healing her can we continue?" Harry then, anger radiating through him at the mere thought of failure.

"Oh I'm so sorry! I'm only wondering just how much help you're going to be if you're locked in a coma for all eternity. Will you be helping her then?" Daphne hissed darkly.

"I need to try!" Harry almost shouted and for a second all the hurt, anger and grief showed on his face. Lines that were forever etched into his skin revealed themselves and in that moment he looked a thousand years older. It all vanished a second later.

"Harry," Daphne tried but knew it was pointless; instead she resigned herself to helping him. She drew her wand.

"In here," was all he said. Harry had not been allowed to visit, a personal request by Hermione's parents who had been informed about everything. From first to fifth year they knew what had happened, and Harry had decided they were right to hate him.

He opened the door. Laid out on a bed was the pale sickly form of his best friend, for a moment Harry couldn't move. Waves of self loathing and hatred hit him; he had led her to the ministry. Though now it was time to make amends.

Three flashes of red was all it took, Dan and Emma Granger slumped forward and were quickly joined by the healer.

"Alright we need to do this quickly, give me the blood and vampire dust." Daphne sighed knowing they now had no other option.

_Remains of the soulless, half rejuvenated by the blood of friend, the other of foe must encircle the necromancer to lock his unbound soul._

"Let me get it," Harry muttered withdrawing a syringe and moving towards Hermione.

"What! Harry you can't use her blood!" Daphne protested but was disturbed even further when for foe's blood he removed some of his own.

"What the hell are you doing!" she screamed this time as he handed her the syringes.

"Voldemort's blood and mine are the same, find me a more dangerous foe," Harry dared, half smiling as Daphne gaped speechless. Neither she nor he had any idea of what could happen.

"Come on!" reluctantly she began using the vampire ash to create a pentagram, covering half of it in the blood of friend, and the other with Harry's own blood. Within a moment the hospital room was a ritual site and Harry took his place in the middle.

"This is insane," she had to say it at least once more before walking slowly behind Harry. So she was opposite Hermione.

"Of course it is," Harry sighed, this was sloppy and he knew it. The book did warn that it required careful planning and a lot of time to do this but time was the one thing he didn't have. Even the Seeker couldn't have given him more.

_When the circle is formed, the necromancer must win favour of the demonic divines he wishes to utilise. _

"I Harry James Potter, request favour from those above me! I petition you, oh divines, to grant me access to the world beyond this one and allow me to the knowledge that will save my friend. I request of you, oh great ones that you grant me this and open the gates to the world between worlds." He had rehearsed what he wanted to say of course but thankfully he knew at least one demonic entity was on his side.

"Oh my God." Daphne muttered as the ceiling above became a spiralling blue vortex, stretching out for miles.

"_Soula unnafix mortath, Soula unnafix mortath_," a chant replaced Harry's voice.

_Then if demonic favour is one, the soul must be unbound from the body of the necromancer. _

Daphne took a breath. She had no idea what to expect. Pain? Euphoria? Depression? Death? As far as she was concerned all three were possible. She closed her eyes. Breathed deeply and opened them in time to see Harry bring a flash to his lips. She couldn't say anything now, it was too delicate.

"Please. For Hermione." Harry muttered before downing the flash, a slimly liquid ran down his throat and burned his stomach. Pain followed endless amounts of it. He wanted to scream but was frozen, wanted to cry out but was silenced and then the pain stopped. It had been worse than any curse but there was no need. Harry was no longer alive. He was a soul, trapped and fighting for power in a vessel that would soon overpower him and send him back. Though then he blinked, at the world changed.

_Librorum_

When Harry looked back at the time in between his transition all he would ever say was he remembered books. A maze of them, a library maze that stretched out in all directions, an infinity of them. All of them with a title, name or topic on the cover and Harry felt an internal urge to read every single one of them.

"_You have done well champion, you have completed the Mortus. A feat none have enacted for over a thousand years." _The voice, yes the voice returned as he hovered in a huge kite shaped room. The walls were shelves and the doors were hidden from view and he was suspended at its core.

"_Your friend is safe, however the aftermath of this ritual is not inside any of the books in your world. All you know is you are no longer living correct?" _the voice inquired from nowhere, though to Harry it felt closer.

"She's alive," was all he could say but he didn't need to speak.

"_There is more, as of now you have power over the souls of men. This is the power of Necromancy, using powers that will now be instinctual you may tear the souls out of the weak. Those souls can be used for a number of things. To regenerate your being, to raise the bodies of the dead and bind them to your will, or you can open a portal to__Librorum and search the endless shelves. Or if you able to find them, look for the books if the deceased in this realm, from there you may summon them into any hollowed body you will. You have great power and it is yours and yours alone." __The voice spoke slowly, softly and pride filled it._

_"Ok, there's something else isn't there?" Harry asked sensing there was something he didn't know. A catch of some sort he hadn't heard about just yet. _

_"Yes, as you are not alive you are invulnerable to almost all magic. It can hurt and sting but not kill and wound. However you are not yet dead, your soul is kept anchored on the mortal plane through your companion. The girl in your case, while she will not die of old age or most curses she can still die, and if she dies then your soul will be released and you will exist here, forever." _

_"And exactly where is here?" Harry asked but he didn't hear the words come from his voice. The question was the first thing he thought, he almost felt relieved that he had to protect Hermione. He could make sure she wasn't hurt like that again_

_"__This is one of the five demonic realms, Librorum__ where all knowledge is kept. Mortal, or immortal with the exception of very little there is nothing not contained on the pages of the endless books. Every person, living or dead has their entire life written here. This is my realm. Though there are others. Though I will not discuss tha_t!" the voice continued. Harry looked for a source but all he saw were books which began to flutter in wind he could not feel.

"What do I do know?" Harry asked and the voice gave a deep, dark chuckle.

"_That is not for me to say, you have your path. Will you challenge and defeat my other champion and become the general of my armies in this age and the coming war. Will you use your powers to take control or ensure peace? Or will you spend your days searching through the shelves of __Librorum_? _Having to kill to ensure you have the souls to stop yourself becoming one of the thousands who roam these halls as lifeless ghosts._ Your future is yours, though my other champion will hunt you and the champion of my nemesis waits in the shadows."

"Who is your nemesis?" Harry asked, he long since had enough of this cryptic nonsense. Was he supposed to serve a mysterious voice? Fighting a force he had never heard of? Was that his destiny?

"_My enemy is known to my other champion and it will be known to you too. The natural rival to knowledge, the demonic forces of lust, want and desire. The guardian of those things is my nemesis. Though until I have only one champion that is all I will tell you." _

"And if I want to kill Voldemort?" Harry asked.

"_You ask, I will tell you his weakness but in exchange I shall tell him yours. Both of you must have equal footing if you are to fight." _

Harry moved to say something but felt a strange tugging at his back.

"_But for now, you are to leave. Go understand your new powers and beware my nemesis, she who disguises herself as love and her agents. Know she wishes to prevent you becoming my instrument of war." _

St Mungos

"Harry!" A voice that sounded a million miles away was screeching in his ear, but it was one he knew and one he had been dying to hear for too long now.

"Hermione!" he shot up and was met by the beaming eyes of his best friend. Her skin now silky and soft, eyes wide and pure, hair bushy and yet filled with the colour she had lacked mere moments ago. She was healed.

"Harry," she was shocked now and Harry knew why, he placed a hand on his heart. It had stopped beating.

"How are you?" she began but Harry shushed her with a deep hug before a loud cough interrupted them.

"I'm still here you know," Daphne muttered but Harry was already embracing her before she could finish.

"Thank you," he whispered before pulling back. She smiled.

"What happened?" Hermione asked suddenly, frowning at the pair who looked at each other knowingly. Harry moved to speak.

"Hermione what do you know of the ancient art of Necromancy?" Harry began echoing the same words the voice had spoken to him. Though this time he could feel the power she spoke of. Inside him was a cold fire which filled his veins; he could sense the raw souls of the healer and Hermione's parents and wondered just what this black fire could do to them. It was obvious he needed to explore this newfound power.

"Hello?" Dan Granger was the first to rise and Harry acted on instinct, he envisioned a place he could call safe and willed the black fire within to his aid. It surrounded all three of them in a perfect sphere before vanishing.


	4. Chapter 4

Path of the Necromancer

Harry took a breath the moment the black sphere vanished, darkness overwhelmed him and he had to resist the sudden urge to sink to his knees. Exhaustion coursed through his veins and his eyes fought the sudden urge to clamp shut.

"Harry? Harry?" Daphne's concerned voice broke a sudden deafening silence and he managed to look up, taking deep breaths as two hands pulled him from his slouched position and back to normal. He felt a hand brush his, then a sharp stinging before the waves of exhaustion faded and he was able to stand. Thorough deep breaths he steadied himself and observed the darkened damp hall he was stood in. A chill was in the air

"_Lumos," _Hermione removed her hand and lit up the hall of number 13 Grimmauld place. A layer of dust had settled over the floor and much of the furniture but thankfully the portrait of Mrs Black had not noticed them yet.

"How are we?" Hermione muttered as Harry stood up straight, feeling perfectly fine now.

"I broke through them," Harry commented knowing Hermione was referring to the protections employed to keep the house safe. That was most likely why he had felt so drained, that and he was supposed to use mortal souls to sustain his power. He didn't even have his own that time.

"And just how exactly did you manage that?" Hermione inquired looking thrown. Harry smiled.

"I just did, don't try and work it out yet Hermione. I may still pass out." Daphne put a protective hand on his shoulder. Hermione frowned and then a few seconds later a strange look flickered across her face.

"Wait what happened? The last thing I remember was being in the ministry, then I blink and I'm in a hospital and you two are performing some kind of... ritual," Hermione both asked and tried to work out the answer in her sentence.

"The Mortus," Daphne hissed looking over at Harry with a raised eyebrow.

"I've never heard of it." Hermione affirmed looking between the pair. Both Harry and Daphne looked at each other, a slight nod between them passed.

"That's because it's been erased, also it may be the most dangerous thing I have ever helped complete," Daphne began using a feminine touch.

"It worked," Harry pointed out. He received a deathly glare for his trouble.

"I think that had far more to do with the fact you had demonic favour, without that the poison would have left you in a painful coma for all time." Daphne retorted.

"Poison?" Hermione ignored all but one word.

"To complete the ritual, I had to drink a potion known as the Leech of Life. It absorbs you're soul, killing your body, but it retains hold of your soul. It is the most disgusting and horrible poison I know of."

"And you drank it?" Hermione stated. Harry nodded.

"To save you I needed to..." he never finished for in the same second he felt a sharp sting sensation collide with his left cheek. A red faced Hermione was ferociously fixing him with a murderous expression.

"Hermione!" he exclaimed shocked at her sudden outburst.

"You idiot! Why would you do something like that?" She demanded looking ready to hit him again.

"You, I needed to save you! You were hit by a curse," he excused but he received another slap for his trouble.

"Drinking a poison isn't saving me, besides why? Why would you go so far? That's extreme Harry even for you!" Hermione continued looking a sudden mixture of confused and upset. Harry just looked taken back.

"Because I had to. I caused..."

"No! Harry No! You didn't cause me getting hit by a curse, no, Oh I give up!" Hermione sighed looking on the verge of tears. Harry didn't know what to say as slumped herself down on the floor.

"Hermione," he had no idea why she was reacting this way, he had assumed she would be pleased. He put an arm round her upon Daphne's miming encouragement.

"Oh Harry, why? Why would you risk killing yourself or worse in this case for me? I could have killed you," Hermione asked in a shaky voice.

"No, I could have killed me." He corrected. She hadn't made him swallow the potion nor had she helped him make it.

"Oh for God's sake. Look both of you," Daphne clapped three times and the worry of Mrs Black was thrown from Harry's mind as she commanded their attention.

"Harry, you didn't throw the curse, you didn't almost kill Hermione. Hermione, you didn't nearly kill Harry, you didn't make him drink the potion. Both of the things your blaming yourselves for are not your fault. So would you please just get up and stop fighting!" Daphne's voice increased in volume as she approached the end. Her anger was a surprise to all and Harry slowly helped Hermione to her feet.

"Are we going to accept I'm right?" the dark haired Slytherin inquired. She didn't get an answer, she never would.

"Besides you still have the part about you being a necromancer to go." Daphne commented with a smile as Hermione fixed Harry with another deathly glare.

The Next Day

_Albus Dumbledore _

_I see, I hear, I know. _

_I see that you are concerned about you're student, Harry Potter. I hear that you have been searching all over for him and yet you have no idea where he is. I know he is outside of your reach, though the question of how far can be answered in the usual way._

_The Seeker_

"Infernal woman," Dumbledore hissed throwing the letter back down on his desk. There were hundreds of people he didn't like, some he could even hate but no one could get under his skin like The Seeker. The woman who served a master whose identity was a mystery even to him. Once again it came down to her being the one person who could help. Though now he had bigger problems than just Harry. Hermione Granger had also gone missing. Taken from her hospital bed and there only things they found was strange dust and blood. Whatever had happened sent the order into disarray and they needed to find them soon. Both of them were symbols Harry, mainly Harry.

"So what do you know?" Dumbledore asked the letter, for a second he may have actually been expecting a reply. Instead he sighed and allowed the darkened parchment to slip from his hands. He needed all the help he could get but would he really trust _her._ Then again to get Harry back, well it was of the utmost importance. If Harry was left out of his influence for too long them certain _parties _may take an interest, parties whom his patron had warned him about.

"The Seeker it is," Dumbledore growled.

Grimmauld Place

"So you're dead?" Daphne asked over breakfast, she had never got her head around this part last night. No one did, including Harry to a large extent.

"Yes I am, my body is dead. It still works but its dead, sort of. Anyway my soul is kept grounded by..."

"Me," Hermione finished and Harry nodded before reaching for another slice of toast.

"Yes, so if Hermione dies I die, other than that I can't die." Harry explained feeling slightly less confident than he perhaps should. He didn't like to boast.

"So nothing can hurt you?"

"No, I can still be in pain. I could be overpowered physically, tortured and all sorts of nasty things but killed is a big no. Unless they..."

"Get me," Hermione finished again and Harry once again nodded.

"I'm going to pretend I understand the complex arrangement here. As all I've got is in the last few weeks we've been from Hogwarts, to the train, to some maniac's shop, to a hospital, Harry then visited some strange demonic realm and sort of killed himself."

"That's pretty much what happened," Harry muttered.

"I see and this is a normal few weeks for you then?" Daphne asked. Both Harry and Hermione laughed.

"I give up, then again Hermione you did spend two hours trying to work out who this strange voice was and where librorum is. So it could be the tiredness," Daphne commented pouring herself a coffee.

"Yes well a world of books is obviously tempting," Harry teased. Hermione just shook her head.

"Now I'm going to journey into the magical world of reality for a moment and ask what exactly is going to happen now? I mean Hermione's parents might need to know their daughter's fine. My parents can wait, forever and do you have a plan Harry?" Daphne asked.

"What's wrong with your parents?" Hermione asked noting the touch of contempt which crept through her voice.

"They're annoyed because I didn't let Draco Malfoy rape me," she smiled in response.

"What?" Hermione looked alarmed.

"Malfoy tried to blackmail Daphne into sex, though the demonic voice managed to get their first and protect her and her sister. Though apparently Daphne should have allowed Draco to have his way with her, that way the families could have secured an alliance," Harry explained shuddering. Hermione just looked disgusted.

"The way it should be," Mrs Black interjected from the hall.

"Portraits have souls you know, I would love to test what yours does to a corpse," Harry shouted back, the woman had sensed what he was the other night. She had run off every time he came into view.

"Speaking of soul ripping powers, exactly what are you going to do with them?" Daphne inquired suddenly "Say anything sarcastic and I will tear your nether regions off."

"Thank you for that... vivid image," Harry began evidently disturbed "I was going to use today to test them, there's going to be a death eater attack in Diagon Alley today."

"How the hell do you know that?" Hermione asked quickly, Harry handed her a note written in black parchment.

"I see, I hear, I know. I see you have completed the Mortus, I hear your cry for the souls of the guilty. I know there will be an attack on Ollivanders. "

"Is that the mental?" Daphne asked.

"Yes, but I think she's telling the truth. But I don't trust her so I'm going in disguise," Harry replied.

"So no one knows you're a necromancer?" Hermione half questioned, half stated.

"Exactly, I'm sure this place has a long cloak and a hood to spare."

Diagon Alley

Dumbledore walked through the alley almost entirely invisible, his disillusionment charm was nearly perfect and he would not be seen entering the shop in question. He had no idea who could and could not see it and had no wish for a death eater to know he has contact with the woman. Then again he didn't even know if Voldemort knew about her. Though he found the hidden shop somewhat confusing when a paper sign hanging off it revealed to him the owner was out.

"What?" he muttered to himself. The woman had to have a reason for dragging him here, so what was it? However much she liked to stir things up she did not play pathetic pranks.

"_Turn around," _a voice whispered in his ear.

"I forgot you could do those," she was here. He just couldn't see her, she was employing the same trick he was using but his attention quickly shifted from annoyance to fury as a loud crashing sound filled his ears. For a moment he thought someone had dropped a vase or something they had brought. Then he saw the fires.

The elder wand was in his hand before most could blink, though already three people were dead in that time.

"Stop, you must watch." The creeping voice instructed, she wanted him to see this and willingly he obliged. Watched as the front door to the wandmaker's shop was kicked aside, his window smashed into a thousand twinkling glass shards and as the man himself was dragged out.

"Let him go." A voice that could only be described as pure ice ordered, the two death eaters dragging the man turned. Watched as a man covered from head to toe in a dark cloak moved forward and extended a hand. A silk gloved hand.

"_Crucio," _the curse was thrust towards the man who dodged. Then as Dumbledore prepared to intervene a purple glow engulfed the man's hand and then it was gone. Thinking of his supposed failure the Death Eaters were obviously mocking the man who would not speak, however the rest of the alley collectively drew breath. They watched as three people began to rise.

A man, and two woman, one old, one young, were behind the death eaters. All of them looked furious, and they had good reason. They had been the first three killed and with inhuman strength the oldest woman pulled the nearest Death Eater backwards, freeing Ollivander, and the man took the other one.

"They're not inferi," Dumbledore muttered, these were the angry souls of the dead. The murdered and they were alive, yet dead. Trapped in their bodies and taking their revenge. With their inhuman strength the Death Eaters were quickly and yet painfully dispatched within minutes. Then with another flash of purple they fell to the floor.

"_I claim your souls," _the man spoke to the bodies of the Death Eaters. Then he was gone.

"That was Necromancy," Dumbledore muttered.

"The impossible magic is attained." The Seeker's voice cut in from next to him. Then she too was gone.


	5. Chapter 5

Path of the Necromancer

"I must say Harry, this Necromancer in Diagon Alley sounds like one hell of a show off." Daphne commented flicking through the prophet with a slightly humoured expression.

"Ha, ha." Harry muttered with a bored expression, he had collected the souls of two death eaters and yet according to the papers he was the evil one. Not the kidnappers and murderers but him, the one who had saved Ollivander from their clutches.

"You know if Voldemort has any sense he'll go straight to the voice and ask about the Necromancer," Hermione pointed out. Harry had filled her in on the fact both of them were champions of the same God. However it still made no sense.

"The voice won't tell him anything, and if he does then he will tell me something of equal value. So I doubt highly Voldemort will risk his secrets in exchange for something about the mysterious Necromancer." Harry replied simply. Hermione shrugged the idea of gods, demons and their magic were just the things she wouldn't get. These things worked outside the logic she was used to, well they worked outside of everything Harry knew, Daphne too so they were all pretty much on the same boat.

"Whatever. Speaking of yesterday's events what are you going to do with their souls. Do you just carry them around?" Daphne asked frowning. Harry had come home shattered and he had said very little for the rest of the day.

"No I put them in this." Harry revealed a ring on his index finger, a thing golden one with nothing remarkable about it except for the vibrant blue gem in the middle.

"And for this mere mortal that is?" Daphne wondered with no idea exactly what that was. Though a slight purplish light was swirling with the gem, tough its movements made it seem almost... alive.

"A magically forged gem, it was my reward from the blind maniac." Harry replied, it had the power to hold souls indefinitely. He had wondered what it must be like to be a soul in it but when he thought of who the men were, he found it hard to sympathise.

"Now why would she give you this?" Hermione asked with a frown. Harry shrugged.

"She wants to enlist my help." Harry muttered holding up another black piece of parchment.

"Another task. She is supposedly sending me the name of one of Voldemort's top funders. Though it requires me to go to their home."

"Do you trust her?" Daphne asked looking at how Harry was holding the envelope.

"She seemed helpful enough, but."

"She's insane." Daphne finished with a smile. She had heard what this woman was like but there was no doubt in anyone's mind the old crone was insane. You didn't even need to meet her to know that. Not that Daphne, or Hermione for that matter, ever wanted to.

"Exactly."

Later

"Harry come on, trust me they're not going to bite." Hermione scolded as trio approached the porch of the Granger Household.

"Hermione they refused to let me visit and I kidnapped you. I have a strange feeling their not going to be singing my praises." Harry remarked sarcastically.

"Which is why I brought my camera," Daphne smiled holding up a small disposable film camera with a sickly sweet grin.

"Not helping," Harry confirmed quickly as Hermione pressed her finger against the doorbell. A loud buzzing sounded followed by a few seconds of silence. Were they in? What had they been told? And how would they react to his presence?

All the questions were answered in order the moment Emma Granger opened the door. The answers were, yes, everything and she fainted immediately with nothing more than a slight shock filled gasp.

_Click_

"Daphne!" Hermione scolded before turning round to see her father gaping at her with an open mouth. His eyes moved from his daughter, to his wife and then to Harry. Narrowed eyelids and a flaring nose told Harry all he needed to know. He charged but was met by an invisible force.

"Dad!" Hermione's voice broke through his sudden outbreak of fury and the man quickly turned his attention back to her, then to the boy who had one hand outstretched. The one who was holding him.

_Click_

"Daphne!" Harry growled with obvious irritation before realising the furious man in front of him. Honestly if it wasn't for the ready use of soul magic he would be intimated. The man was tall, trim and looked muscular. Though his body did not translate into the image of intimidation, nor did his furious posture. In fact his eyes carried most of it. Wide infernos of blue which were burning up even more and for a single moment Harry wondered if they could ignite his entrenched, straight, brown hair.

"Dad please calm down," Hermione begged looking almost frightened, a look which calmed her father and Harry released him from the invisible grip. Using up almost half a soul in the process.

"What is he doing here?" was all the man asked.

"He saved my life."

"He was the one who nearly killed you!" Dan Granger retorted angrily looking almost ready to charge again.

"No that was the..." the father and daughter quickly descended into argument and Daphne knowing the time for joking was over put her camera down.

"Enough!" she roared in a voice that no one expected to come from her. It belonged to a warrior, a general, not a teenage girl. Though despite this everyone turned their attention to her.

"Let's calm down and maybe we can sort this out." Daphne advised looking between the father and daughter, both looked ready to burst. Red faces, angry eyes and their resemblance was uncanny. At least in fury.

"I want him out." Dan Granger stated simply pointing at Harry. His eyes brimming with raw contempt at the man who, in his eyes, had almost killed his daughter.

"Right we'll go, Hermione can talk to you and we'll come back later," Daphne suggested realising the situation was only going to escalate from here. Hermione looked unsure.

"I don't want you back," Dan Granger growled.

"With respect you have no choice in the matter now," Harry hissed. He felt something inside. Pulsing. Twitching. Tearing at him. Hermione was his anchor to this world, he needed to protect her and needed to be close to her. He would be back.

"Excuse me!" Harry opened a palm. Daphne however closed it and a aura of calm quickly ushered itself into the room.

"We'll be back," Daphne affirmed half dragging Harry out of the house. Though once outside Harry seemed to accept her compromise, then with a flash of black fire they were gone.

Later

_I see, I hear, I know. I see an agent of the Dark Lord moving in the shadows. I hear his plots and plans. I know he must die. James Parkinson. Find him. _

_The Seeker_

"You didn't expect them to welcome you in with open arms did you?" Daphne asked. Both he and her were sat on a park bench in an area filled with green. Infecting the plants, grass and only broken up by the burst of yellow, red and white from the flowers. They were waiting. James Parkinson lived in an exquisite manor. Currently they were trespassing in his garden and they assumed it was only a matter of time before he came out to chase them off.

"No. Of course I didn't. In fact, I didn't really know what to expect," He confessed with a sigh, how it had come to that so quickly?

"Look fathers and boys have a complicated friendship usually, adding in giant snakes, trolls , Dementors and You-Know- Who . Well these things make it worse." Daphne began knowing he was feeling bad.

"Attacking me in his house worse?" Harry half questioned, half stated.

"Evidently, look Hermione will have a little talk with him, then when the violent anger is gone we can work this out. Though in the meantime you can do nothing but make it worse," Daphne reprimanded putting an arm around him.

"Well I don't have much experience with fathers." He muttered with a slight smirk. Daphne glared.

"Girls fathers. Trust me they are completely different. They can be annoying, overprotective, irritating, obsessive and destructive. It's what they do."

"Now where the hell is Parkinson? We've been trespassing through the wards for half an hour."

"You've heard of him?" Harry asked, he hadn't even thought to ask the pureblood expert about whether or not the Seeker had found him a valid target.

"He's Pansy's uncle. Big pureblood supremacist and wants to have all Muggleborns rounded up and registered. He's a bit... well he's a complete arsehole who, from what I've heard, has found himself on the wrong side of the law enough times to merit him a life sentence. Though he has friends, so need I say more?" Daphne asked pulling back and stretching.

"Oi!"

"Finally," Daphne muttered looking to Harry who took a breath. He had this all worked out. So as a rather rotund man of forty came bumbling towards them with a red puffy face Harry stood up.

"How dare you trespass here, on my property, do you have any idea who I am?" the bellowing voice demanded but he frowned when he saw exactly who it was on his property. However Harry's wand was in his hand and a spell knocked him to the ground. A painful one that kept him there and Harry knelt down next to him, drawing a small blade as he did so.

"_Solous, unteethe."_ He opened a palm to cast the smell while he gently cut Parkinson's hand. Then with a flash of blue, and a chilling tearing sound, Harry's ring shone blue and the body of James Parkinson slumped back down to the floor.

"God, half an hour for that?" Daphne sighed turning away in something that resembled a huff.

Granger Household

"I will not just abandon him like that!" Harry arrived to see Hermione stood in the front garden of the suburban house he had visited earlier. Though this time she was facing two furious parents with a deathly glare which was unmatched as far as Harry was concerned.

"Hermione?" Daphne greeted gingerly wondering if they should go or stay. The situation seemed to have escalated even more, how exactly that was possible was a mystery.

"Hermione Granger come back inside this moment." Emma Granger, now awake and furious was demanding but Hermione stood her ground as Harry and Daphne stood beside her.

"You!" Emma announced looking shocked as Dan looked ready to attack.

"What happened?" Harry whispered to Hermione.

"They want me to leave Hogwarts," she replied and Harry for a second flinched. The very idea was just... awful. Hermione gone? It was world he didn't want to imagine.

"Yes, Hermione you have been attacked, hurt and nearly killed at that school and with _him._ You need to find somewhere else, what sort of parents would we be if we let you go back?" Dan Granger demanded in a bellow.

_Click_

"Daphne!" Harry and Hermione scolded together as the girl put her camera away once more and smiled sheepishly.

"Now come back inside Hermione, these two are nothing but trouble."

"They both saved my life!" Hermione corrected looking ferocious. Neither of her parents seemed ready to back down.

"Oh and what was the cost? The one you refused to tell us about?" Emma questioned in a screech. Harry and Daphne looked at each other.

"Look this is getting..."

"Shut up!" Dan roared not wanting Daphne not intervene once more, Hermione looked ready to jump to her defence.

"Right we're leaving." Harry had already had enough. He was not going to simply wait outside while his best friend's parents contemplated hiding her away. He would come back another time, when they were calmer and preferably with a bigger party.

"Oh no you are..." Dan Granger began but they were already gone.


	6. Chapter 6

Path of the Necromancer

"Daphne are you alright?" Harry asked, it was early morning and he had been up wondering if his contractor had left him any targets. The answer it seemed was no but he was instead faced with a different dilemma. Namely a pale skinned, dark eyed and thin lipped Daphne almost crawling down the stairs.

"Fine, fine," she muttered "Just a bit under the weather,"

"Daphne from where I'm standing the weather has buried you, how long have you felt like this?" Harry asked rushing up the wooden steps and helping her to her feet. For a second Daphne made out like she was pondering.

"Well I got up about ten minutes ago, so ten minutes." She commented dryly not liking to admit that she was feeling bad, often she was the one making people feel better and not the other way around. Harry picked her up and slowly walked her towards her room. Her skin paled slightly as he did so.

"How do you actually feel, I mean what feels... bad?" Harry asked bluntly, not too sure if he was being abrupt.

"You haven't had sympathy for being ill before have you?" Daphne asked rolling her eyes before coughing slightly. She did not look good and for some reason Harry noticed she looked almost worse.

"I just feel drained, exhausted, heavy: in a moving way and nothing else before you say anything and just worn out. I'm sure I'll feel better in a minute." Daphne muttered not resisting as Harry laid her down on the bed and tucked her under the covers.

"Harry are you... Daphne!" Hermione exclaimed entering the room from the hall. Her face moved from shock to concern in an instant.

"Uhh, I have no desire to repeat the conversation. I'm sure I'll be fine Hermione." Daphne sighed with a whisper lurking behind her normally rich powerful tones. She laid back on the pillow, without the will or energy to move her head back up to look at the two.

Harry took a moment to study her, aside from her deathly white skin; her normally flowing river of black hair was now thinned and straw like. Her hands trembled, her breathing seemed heavy and he suddenly agreed with the word drained. Though it looked more literal from where he was standing.

"Hermione?" he didn't need to ask the question but he already knew the answer. Hermione would know nothing about this illness or she would have already said it, though they both knew this looked like more than just a cold.

"You two! I'll be fine, honestly. Just let me sleep it off," Daphne muttered faintly through closing lips and blurred vision. Her eyes snapped shut and within a moment she was asleep. A deep one and Harry and Hermione turned to each other, both were confused but neither were doctors.

"Maybe we should get her something," Hermione suggested,

"Do they sell new layers of skin?" Harry asked and Hermione sighed.

"Look, I'm sure it's just as passing cold. I mean she did share her body with you so maybe this is just the recovery phase. I don't know. Though we could get her some pepper up potion and see how that goes," Hermione suggested looking slightly wary.

"Well let's go."

Diagon Alley 

"How many?" the shopkeeper asked the moment he heard Harry and Hermione's request, both looked at each other. Slightly unsure of the answer, they weren't doctors or experts after all.

"How much would you recommend for a cold?" Harry inquired with a shrug. He seemed bored of them already and for a second Harry wondered how he would react if he took down his hood and revealed who he really. Hermione was of course out in the open but no one had made much of a fuss over the missing muggleborn.

"Three, four, no more that that though. Don't want to overdose, I'll put you in for four," the man half advised, half muttered as he took the galleons Hermione pretty much thrust at him. Harry could have paid but getting money out of his vaults wasn't really on his mind at the moment.

"Thanks," Hermione muttered half heartedly walking out of the potion shop in a meaningful stride. Harry followed suit and yet the moment he was outside a slight chill spread over him. Being that he couldn't really feel the cold or indeed the heat any more he realised something was trying to tell him something. He walked over to the side of the shop, wondering if there was a breeze or something calling him, nothing.

"Miss Granger?" A comforting voice questioned suddenly and Harry felt a wave of relief. He turned to see none other than Albus Dumbledore coming towards them with a warm smile. He looked thrilled and despite the sudden chill Harry was glad to see him.

"Professor?" Hermione questioned looking around for Harry, she seemed relieved too. Why hadn't they contacted the headmaster over the last few weeks, he could have been a great help and Harry wanted to know how he would react when he found what the _power he knows not_ would be. The chill came at those words.

"Miss Granger, what happened? You scared us all to death?" the man half joked looking just as happy to see her. Harry was about to go out and greet them but at the same time something held him back. What was it?

"I just woke up in hospital," Hermione began and then Harry did stop, something was echoing in his mind but he just didn't know what it was.

"How? I'm not unhappy of course but I was told your injuries were..." the old man began slightly confused and then Harry remembered the prophecy. He had been thinking about it earlier but now there was something in his mind about it. It was the power but hadn't Dumbledore already told him what it was.

"Well I was going to die and then..." Hermione's voice tuned out as Harry remembered what the power was supposed to be. Love.

_She who disguises herself as love and her agents _the voice of the one who had started this quest echoed in his mind. Dumbledore was a champion of the idea of love, but he couldn't be the nemesis could he? Then again Harry didn't even know who the knowledge riddled demon's nemesis was.

"I told you not to speak!" Harry roared improvising on the spot and with his hood drawn he emerged from the side of the shop with his wand drawn. Hermione jumped but didn't move, knowing who it was, despite him having a wand to the back of her head.

"Necromancer," Dumbledore breathed and now people were interested, a crowd gathered with all eyes fixed upon the scene as a strange masked man spoke to the greatest wizard in the world.

"Servant of Love, is that not the name of her agents?" Harry mock sneered having no idea if he was right or wrong but wanted to provoke a reaction. It worked and Dumbledore's face lit up with alertness.

"Not quite, though close I must say. Agent of knowledge," So Dumbledore did know about the other world of demons and godly figures. Indeed he seemed to be a champion just like him, but of a different demon.

"Though I was under the impression Voldemort was his champion." The old man said briefly and Harry wondered if he was doing the right thing. Dumbledore had been a constant help to him and yet because of which demons they spoke to they were at odds. Then again Dumbledore didn't know it was him.

"Circumstances change. I wish to outdo him, the girl was supposed to be bait."

"For who may I ask?" Dumbledore inquired and Harry saw fit to answer with a lie he came up with on the spot.

"Harry Potter. He escaped me once, I don't intend to allow him to do so again,."

"I see, what is your quarrel with him? What good will he do you?" Dumbledore demanded, he was hesitant, staling, believing the necromancer would kill Hermione if he attacked.

"There is no quarrel between us; his need to be is symbolic. In the same way I fear our quarrel exists." Harry commented realising he was improvising to a dangerous level and his identity was only a fallen hood away. Dumbledore smiled a real smile with actual warmth despite the circumstances.

"I must say I'm impressed, a champion who knows our quarrel is our master's and we are forced to partake. I have not come across another who thinks the same way as I, the others seem wholly devoted to their master. We however don't seem to be. However do not mistake my tone for one of permission I will not allow you to take Harry Potter of indeed Miss Granger."

"I'll bear that in mind." Harry replied softly before reaching within himself to harness the power which would send him home.

Though Dumbledore seemed to know what was about happen and as the purple sphere enveloped the pair he jumped back. Knowing it would take him to wherever the Necromancer lurked and that would not do. Though his next move was far more thought out.

"_Oblivate." _He turned on the crowd as a whole and in a moment as far as the world was concerned that exchange had never even happened.

Grimmuald Place

"What the hell was that?" Hermione demanded the moment the two arrived back in the house, she was both furious and confused and looked ready to hit Harry once more.

"Sorry..."

"Sorry! You held me at wand point!" Hermione seethed knowing it was trick but confused about the motive. Though she allowed Harry a few moments to explain fully,

"So he's with the wrong demon?" she questioned after he had finished. They had decided to refer to the voice as a demon the moment Hermione had read the book on the mortus.

"No, he's with the nemesis of the demonic voice I've been hearing," Harry answered.

"So what does that mean! Do you have to fight? Or hate each other or..." Hermione asked with no idea why Harry would be in a fight with Dumbledore. As far as they knew the man had done nothing to either of them.

"I don't know!" Harry cut her off in one swift statement "But it complicates things."

"If Daphne was down here she would be able to express how irritating that is through dry sarcasm and I really want her to." Hermione muttered but her comment quickly reminded them of their original purpose and suddenly Dumbledore could wait.

Daphne was still asleep when they got upstairs. Hermione began withdrawing the potion and Harry looked her over, she looked slightly better and he hoped for a second that the worrying had been for nothing and she would be fine by morning.

"Oww," Hermione cursed, a sharpened side of the lid had opened a small cut on her hand but she dismissed it quickly. While the urgency was gone she still cared more for Daphne. Though as she poured the potion into a cup she tried to shake Daphne awake,

"Harry get off her!" Hermione's tone was sharp, scared and almost fearful and Harry looked up to see Hermione moving away from Daphne. Harry let go of the girl's hand and then saw Hermione looking at her hand with horrid fascination. The cut was healed.

"Her touch, its healing us." Was all Hermione said. Harry froze,

_You understand dear boy that the bond you will share enters a realm of magic which is unknowable. It is well past the limits of even my understanding. _

The words of the seeker chose that moment to echo in his mind. He and Daphne had shared a body for a moment, his soul was now within Hermione creating an unbreakable bond between the three of them. Somehow her touch was healing them. Though in the process it was killing her,

"Harry what do we do?" Hermione asked, she had nothing, no thoughts, no way of understanding how this had happened without even thinking if it could be cured. Harry had no idea either and from the words of the seeker he knew no mortal would. In that second all thought about Dumbledore left him and instead he felt the same driving force he had used to save Hermione. There was only one place which held the knowledge he sought, and he was bound to it.

"We need to get to librorum"


End file.
